


Fires

by 69moans



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Because I can, But mostly he just craves a sense of belonging, Creature Inheritance, Dark Creatures, F/M, M/M, Snape is definitely dark, Soulmates, definitely not canon, endgame is severus/remus btw, genetics are a bitch, i just wanted to screw with snape, it's a war, like at all, lots of death, severus isnt so hateful, snupin - Freeform, some world exploration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 16:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7229605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/69moans/pseuds/69moans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus learns the hard way that bloodlines show up when you need them, not when you want them.  Aka: genetics are a bitch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy this for what it is... sorry for the slow burn. Told in snippet style.

I

Severus’s brows furrowed as he followed the path beneath the whomping willow. “Lily,” he whispered, continuing when he hears no sound, “Lily please!” Panic was starting to settle in as he heard no reply. Damn Black, how could he just let Lily come here, after knowing that Lupin was? He growled, and scrambled forward faster, he knew better than anyone the strength of Lilly’s curiosity. If this mystery had caught her attention, then she’d be here. Severus swallowed and hoped against hope that Black was pulling his leg. Though if that were true then Black was trying to kill him; and that might be even worse… in a different way. 

They traded hexes and crude insults, but never had they tried to kill each other. That was crossing a boundary that Severus wasn’t ready for. Would probably never be ready for, and didn’t want to be ready for. Where are you Lily...? I won’t let anything happen to you. 

James charged into the room a few minutes later, startled to find His friend slumped against the opposite wall, Snivillus unconscious on the floor, blood spreading sluggishly, and various blast marks peppering the room.

II

Of course they wouldn’t be punished. The next morning left Severus with the bitter tastes of ashes in his mouth; James had carried him to the infirmary, after he’d almost bled to death in the shrieking shack. Alright, maybe not to death, but those claw marks had been brutal, Madam Promfrey hadn’t been able to get them to heal without a scar. Severus touched the new additions to his body almost reverently. It was proof, he told himself, proof that Black had been trying to kill him and that all his animosity wasn’t unfounded.

He was still angry though. Dumbledore hadn’t seen fit to punish them, to punish Black for his stunt. Attempted murder! How was this not serious enough to warrant an expulsion? He knew he wasn’t being unreasonable, Dumbledore was just playing favorites…like he always did.

Resting on the hospital wing bed, Severus felt, acutely, the absence of Lily’s visit. They might not have been best friends as they once had been, but he liked to think that she would still be concerned for him. He shook his head sadly, turning the page of his Potion’s text. She probably didn’t feel the same as he did for her; the willingness to give her his life, his love, and everything in between. He was the darkness to her light, and perhaps he was the only one that recognized that.  
Severus Snape swallowed thickly and turned his mind elsewhere, like why Pomphrey had asked about burns on his body. He couldn’t remember much from the night before, except that he had been consumed with the need to protect himself. 

Protect but not kill. Lupin might turn a blind eye to his friends bullyingl, but even the werewolf didn’t deserve death... 

...Black might.

 

III

Severus let out a monotone hum as he stared at the sky. He dared not go inside the house, as he heard his father ranting and raving at his mother, her shrieks of defiance and fear piercing the cold night air just as much they did his heart. Maybe slightly less.he liked to think he was used to this. Why, he wondered, running fingers though greasy hair, Why did it have to turn out like this?

Even on his birthday they would fight. Smiling slightly as he felt the world reach its apex Severus let out a breath. I’m seventeen. And then his body caught fire. What a present.

 

IV

The Prince line had, at one time, been known for its Ifrit blood ties, starting with the third generation of Princes’ when the heir had been bonded to the daughter of a master Ifrit. Their child, though holding some similarities to its non-human genes such as small horns, and an uncanny ability to resist heat, remained strangely human in all other aspects.

Genetics were a tricky thing with the help of magic, and most of the Princes after were married to witches, wizards, or the occasional squib. The gene that carried with it the traits of the Ifrit were quickly forgotten, and though a child would sometimes be born with some strange ability or physical deformity, these incidents were quickly dealt with.

Ellien Snape, once a Prince, had been relived when her son had been born a normal baby boy, though with strange onyx eyes that seemed much too old for a newborn. Her worries were quickly disregarded in favor of resuming a happy life with her husband, a muggle, who was in no way magical at all. 

It was for this reason that Severus found himself on the cold ground in January, clutching at his chest and struggling to breathe, eyes watering as his body denied him human necessity. The unresisting gate of muggle genetics had allowed the fire and brimstone, that came with being an Ifirt changeling, to come forth. Muggles had no magic to hold back the tide, and as Severus Tobias Snape’s defenses became non-existent in that one moment he was to finally inherit his magic, fire flooded his veins; burning and twisting, engulfing him in a storm of magical hell fire.

The night was cold as Severus passed out. He woke up without a drop of frost on his body, nor any signs of a cold (or pneumonia) that would normally accompany a night out in the open unprotected.

He tried not to dwell on it.


	2. Chapter 2

V

It had been a while since Severus had done accidental magic. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d let his magic get away from him. However, all good things come to an end… the glamour dropped the second he was in the bathroom, striping to take his shower. His reflection startled him.

My ears, He focused on the least consequential of his changes, noticing their elf like qualities. My ears are pointy. Not that his new horns weren’t pointy, but he’d always had ears, and they’d never been pointy… There was panic, fluttering at the back of his mind, trying to consume him much like the burning had last night, but he pushed it away hastily. It wouldn’t help anyone to have a panic attack, especially since he was positive that high emotions would make the fire dancing on this shoulders flare. It would not be good to set his house on fire. His father would kill him…or at least try to. Severus was glad that the Christmas holidays were over tomorrow.

Glamours, he reminded himself, I’m going to need glamours. The thought of showing his mother, or his father what he had become never crossed his mind. No one needed to know. No one.

Not even Lily.

 

VI

 

Severus doesn’t take a shower that night. He’s in too much shock to do much but sit on his bed, the thought “I’m on FIRE,” running though his mind for most of the night. Of course once he pushes the thoughts far enough away to view them from a distance, the flames go out with but a wish.

He wonders what, exactly, it would feel like or look like to just let the flames take him, as he finds that he has to fight them off constantly. They want to ignite under his skin, and consume the air, to live. He’s so focused on them, that he almost doesn’t notice the other inside that’s helping him keep the fire at bay. It’s not a consciousness on its own, not really. Severus can only describe it as an instinct, a feeling, a part of his magic that isn’t quite tied to his “core.” 

It’s not so much uncomfortable so to say, as it is unsettling. He find the “knows” things about himself he knows he doesn’t know.

Like how a shower would be dangerous. Staring at the sight of cascading water makes him cringe. And he really shouldn’t be so surprised. Water puts out fire…and whatever it is he…well is, it’s fire based, so water would be considered something akin to acid. Turning off the shower with a sigh, Severus wonders how the hell he’s going to keep clean. His hair is already a virtual oil rig, and without water, he’s going to be the uncleanliest person in all of Hogwarts. 

 

VII

Severus blanches as he gazes at the Prince line. I’m part Ifrit… The knowledge itself is little comfort, though at least he finally knows…knows why he’s always loved the play of fire…why he never gets cold as easily as others… why his potions flame is always the right temperature, and he hardly has to think about it before the potion is coming down to a simmer.

He places the book back on the shelf and sighs. At least the damned marauders have lessened their overbearing scorn of him. He doesn’t want to lose control and set them all on fire… and it is now actually important to learn occlumency. Emotional control would be key to his survival.

Severus breathes to calm his racing heart, and wonders where he can find texts on Ifrits’ and their changelings. Knowing his luck, it will be in the restricted section.

 

VIII

He saw them kissing, and it made him sick. Lilly and Potter. He’d left immediately, not missing the pointed look sent his way by James. He did not approve, he would never approve, but Lilly no longer valued his opinion, and there was nothing he could do to stop their romance.

He felt the flames flowing, begging to be allowed freedom, but he held them back; as tightly as he did his mind from straying to his Kashatrii’s choice of a mate. There was some place he could let go, rushing through the castle to the abandoned towers built purely of stone, Severus ignores portraits and scrambles to find anywhere that can contain his fury.

Opening an old classroom, Severus’s heart freezes. Lupin and Black. The Monster inside wants out. “What are you looking at Snivellus? Got something to say?”

He turned away, hair a shield. “No. Nothing at all Black.” He feels numb except for the fire churning inside his stomach, through his limbs. My mate, my BELOVED.

Severus silences it. Whatever it was that was calling for death. And then he ran, again, heart bleeding and drowning the fire that had been so enraged before. My mate…he touched my mate…


	3. Chapter 3

IX

They were dead. Severus sighs, feeling guilty that he isn’t particularly sad at this own father’s demise. There was a time he’d loved his father, looked up to the hard working man, but those were times that were now overshadowed by the alcoholic that haunted his dreams. I am not sorry, he realizes, clutching the letter close. Not sorry at all.

His mother on the other hand, he knows he will miss her. She hasn’t been the best mother, but he knows she tried. To love him; to not blame him for her husband’s debauchery. She tried and that was all that mattered really.

There were no tears, but his heart bled again as he folded up the parchment, carefully placing it in his breast pocket, and wondering what in the world could replace love. Power, the dark lord promised, power can replace anything.

He’d lost his uncaring family, he’d lost his Beloved, he’d lost his Kashatrii. Perhaps power would help to fill this void he felt.

Severus found that it didn’t.

 

X

He doesn’t know why, but Severus finds the Dark Lord strangely appealing. Not in a sexual sense, but in a protective sense. There was an air of authority and safety around him that Severus feels drawn to, but can’t pinpoint.

When he’d mentioned such a feeling, Lucius had given him a look that plainly, without words, stated he thought Severus was mental. Not that he didn’t already, everyone thought Severus had a screw loose. But that look conveyed that surely there wasn’t anything about Voldemort that was safe.  
Severus never mentions that feeling again, but no matter what, he can't deny its existence.

 

XI

There isn’t much to controlling fire, he tells them. Sectumsempra might be his favorite spell, but Fiend-fire is a definite second. It feels natural to fight for control, natural but easy. There isn’t any real challenge when you can summon actual hell-fire in a split second; Fiend-fire is tame by comparison.

His fellow death eaters compliment him on his use of the unnatural fire. He doesn’t consider it worth much until it gets him noticed by Voldemort. “Why don’t you join me and Lucius for dinner tomorrow, Mr. Snape.”

There’s no way he can say no. The feeling…the instinct he’s identifies as his Ifrit, agrees. He’d not sure if he’s comfortable with being noticed. Not because he doesn’t deserve it, he does, but because there’s just something, something that’s pure human intuition, that tells him this might not be a good thing.


	4. Chapter 4

XII

Regulus Black is one of those kids that Severus notices because they’re too stupid to stay in the shadows. He may be the opposite of Sirius in many ways, but there is no way they aren’t related. The way they both take up space in a room makes their presence undeniable.

After watching the Black heir for a while, Severus decides that he likes him. He’s smart (in a book sense more than “street” sense) and witty, he has that dark smile Severus remembers. That smile that hides sadness and pride quietly so that no one notices. Severus sees himself in the young Black, and the desire to protect that spark of innocence for as long as he can is ignited before he can properly decipher what he is feeling.

“Ever heard of Fiend-fire?” Onyx meets intrigued brown.

“I hear you’re good at it.” Severus smirks, and with a tilt of his head asks if Regulus wants to learn.

 

XIII

It is the flash of red hair that tips Severus off that Lily is on the battlefield. He stands still only for a moment, watching her firing spells, becoming obviously overwhelmed by the death eater she is dueling. No…he breaths, no no no no no. 

He’s already lost her affection, he argues, but the fire roars through him as he feels the need to protect. She is his sister…the only woman he loves more than himself…the only woman he can ever love and he isn’t going to let her die.

His clothes burst into flame as he rushes, an arching blast of flame, to intercept the purple hex that would have hit her dead in the chest. Nonononono. He will never watch her die right in from of him.

He sets the battlefield aglow, obliterating everything in his path.

 

XIV

I’m made of flame, he realizes, looking down at his body. I look like a devil. He turns to Lily, his best friend and sister, and she returns his gaze with fear. His heart bleeds anew. “My sister.” He whispers, gently touching her cheek. Kashatrii. The flames don’t hurt her, but she staggers back at his touch.

“Monster.” He grins grimly at her revulsion, hand dropping to his side. 

I know.

 

XV

He dodges the spell on reflex, glaring at its source, one James Potter. “Don’t touch my wife you demon!” Severus feels like laughing. He’s just obliterated half the battle field, and James Potter thinks he, a single wizard is enough to stop an Ifrit? He is a Gryffindor through and through, Severus gives him that.

He moves away as Lily clings to her husband of three months, Sirius and Lupin sidling up beside them. All wands trained on him, and Severus can't bring himself to smirk. It was ironic really, that he’d save her, and they’d all hate him anyway. I suppose I don’t deserve love.

He turns his back on them, hoping faintly that they’ll kill him when he does. He doesn’t believe even Hell Fire can stop the Avedra Kadevra. But they let him walk away, and Severus feels all the more empty because of it.

 

XVI

Logically, Severus knows that there was little he can do about Lily’s reaction. He isn’t completely human: thus he is a monster. The tears he sheds instantly evaporate, and he is glad. There is no show of his weakness, no evidence that he has been hurt by that one, singular word she uttered.

Severus glances down at his flaming arms, watching them flex and turn as normal human arms might. His hands clench and open, and yet…they are the hands of a monster.

Breathing evenly, Severus closes it off again, allowing the fire to ebb and the flames encompassing his body to diminish to nothing. His less than clothed state doesn’t bother him, and he clenches his fists again, drawing comfort from the cool mask he slides in place. Inside he can be as fire-filled as he wants, but on the outside, Severus Snape will look as cold as ice.

 

XVII

It isn’t until the next morning when Severus calmly goes about his daily routine, that he notices a slight change in his appearance. It isn’t anything too drastic, he does not suddenly have a more attractive nose, nor has his skin has ceased to be as sallow as it usually chooses to be, but it is a change none the less, that warrants his attention. His hair, while not gorgeously long or something equally ridiculous, is less oily than usual. If fact, Severus reflects, my hair looks normal. Well, normal for other people. Like before his seventeen birthday, right after he took a shower.

Severus then proceeds to mentally smack himself. If he couldn’t shower in water, or course fire would be the answer to his problem. Fire also cleansed…only normal people would never consider…cleansing themselves in fire. Normal people would die.

Regulus floos into his living room, and blinks at the sight of him. “Did you take a shower for once or something?” Severus raises an eyebrow, and his pupil lifts his hands in surrender. “It was just a question.”

Severus concedes that the youngest Black has a point, it’s just a point that Severus doesn’t particularly like. “Have you eaten yet?”

Regulus smiles at him, bright and mischievous, “You know me, I’ve only just managed to escape the manor, which means that I’ve saved my teenage appetite just for you to satiate.” Severus rolls his eyes at the other’s exuberance, but turns to the kitchen to whip them both up something to eat. Regulus is going to need all the energy he can get after that little hair comment.


	5. Chapter 5

XVIII

It is disgusting, the way Voldemort has twisted and warped their original purpose. It had been a good purpose. A little close minded, maybe a little extreme, but now…now it is a monstrosity. The Dark Lord had taken a political view and turned it into an all out war. Severus Snape had not joined the death eaters to torture helpless muggles. He hadn’t.

He’d come for the promise of safety, the feeling he always got whenever he saw Voldemort, the promise of power. The power to lead, to inspire, to make the wizarding world better. This…whatever this was, was not making the world better. It was not filling his void. How was death and torture of a race of people that didn’t even belong in their community helping anyone?  
The Ifrit inside growled in discontent as the Dark Lord paced in front of the crowd, spewing lies and vile half threats. He’d been promised power to fill the void, and this…this was not power. This was not worthy or righteous, or anything he or his Ifrit could identify with.

Severus turns away from the crowd and contemplates, just for a moment, burning everything, everyone to the ground.

He doesn’t, but later he wishes he had.

 

XIX

It’s not the most exciting dinner party Lucius has thrown, but it’s not the most boring either. Severus holds back a yawn and swirls his wine with a practiced hand. He faintly wishes that Regulus was around to entertain him with his incessant talk about whatever, but he pushes the thought away with the knowledge that Voldemort is near and would notice his…attachment.

He doesn’t know why he goes through such pains to keep this a secret from his Lord, and he doesn’t know if he does it for himself or for Regulus.

“I never imagined I’d find one of your kind here.” Severus’s boring night, is now…not.

 

XX

“And what exactly is one of my kind?” His voice is deceptively calm, and he pictures embers, slowly burning.

There’s a chuckle as a black robed figure glides into his line of vision, and Severus has to stop himself from stiffening. It’s a vampire. He knows because there are fangs and vivid red eyes peering at him curiously.

“A fire dweller here on the surface?” The vampire smirks, running a tongue over a fang, “What brought you up here?”

Severus does stiffen now, eyes sharp as flint. “I have always lived here on the surface, as you say. Do you mind telling me why you’re not in your coven somewhere in the mountains?” somewhere away from me?

The dark creature laughs, deep and amused. “As temperamental as all of your kind. Not that I should have expected different, but yes, I’m probably here for the same reason you are, to check out our new lord. I must say I find him lacking.”

Severus yearns to ask about “his kind” but the Slytherin in him restricts the question. All knowledge comes with a cost, and he’s not ready to pay that price yet.

His silence beings a look of comprehension to the other’s face. “You’re a changeling aren’t you?” There’s a sense of wonder in his words that leaves Severus feeling a little hot under the collar. “And you don’t have anyone to teach you…” The vampire frowns. “You see, that why we have Sires’ and Childs’, so that when one of us is made, we have a guide to teach us what we need to know. You must be so confused.”

 

XXI

Severus thanks Lucius for a good time before going to collect his cloak at the front. It’s only courteous, and Severus Snape is always courteous to his hosts. Underneath the calm façade, his mind whirls a mile a minute. The vampire had been…informative. There really isn’t anything else Severus can think to call it. Yet at least.

Haven’t you felt it? The pull? I know you have. I feel it too. The aura of protection he emits…the way you wanted to follow him no matter what.

There had been a lot that kept Severus listening, and not for the first time, he agreed in the saying “Ignorance is Bliss.” Of course Ignorance was also deadly, and Severus Snape always prefers to know, rather than not know. If he’d known earlier, he might not be were his is now. That is to say, bound to the Dark Lord.

Severus shakes his head. No, he’d still be here, in Voldemort’s clutches. His Ifrit had only been one of his reasons for joining the ranks of the Death Eaters. The rest was all his mistake, his need, and his desperation.

Entering his chambers, Severus disrobes, leaving his clothes for the house elf. His currently lodging is a small cottage his Potion’s master allows him run of for academic purposes. “You can’t practice potions in an apartment!” She’d exclaimed, scandalized at the very thought.

Stepping into the fireplace to take a “shower,” Severus recalls the rest of the information he managed to collect and the vampire’s words echo though his mind. The Dark Lord used to be so much more. He scrambles to sort them all out. He hasn’t been this rattled since the incident with Lily. Dear Lily… his Kashatrii. That dull ache in his chest that never actually went away comes back all the more stronger, and for the first time Severus knows why.


End file.
